


Castle of Glass

by Lilac_Alyssum



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Abduction, Age Regression/De-Aging, Agony, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Amnesia, Batfamily Feels, Brainwashing, Bullying, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian Wayne-centric, Dark, Drama, Dubious Science, Jason Todd-centric, POV Cassandra, Protective Bruce Wayne, Psychological Drama, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-03-18 01:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18975760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilac_Alyssum/pseuds/Lilac_Alyssum
Summary: Tragedy and disaster are the life long friends of the Wayne family and their allies.Each member has been to hell and back.Abducted and never seen again, Damian Wayne is lost without a trace. Cassadra Cain's demons are slowly consuming her and while she tries to collect shards of the Batfamily together with Jason Todd, a new organisation is up to mischief in Gotham with a new threat moving inside the shadows.What would you do when the cost you pay is the price you seek?





	1. Chapter 1

 

* * *

 

Gotham was dark.The air was contaminated with gases and industrial pungents, poisoned with the disgusting stenches of vomit on the streets, blood on walls, piss collecting in alleys and other inhumane odors. If it wasn't one of its trade marks after all, the greatest villain of this Kingdom of corruption was in a nasty cellar. A story in a book that should have stayed sealed shut—should never have been written in the first place, but destiny likes to play, and has a habit of bringing these things to life. One of these creations, most heinous of them all, her very own Satan, who embellished himself in deadly whites and venomous greens. A story not for the faint of heart. One unfateful fall into toxins, and a monster had been born.

 It was a common happening for Gotham to wreak havoc at nights. Thirsty for destruction, creatures and demons used it as a playground to their heart's content. It breathed from the sinister auras rogues and criminals spread. Joker being on of the most heinous crime lords in Gotham, lavished in the fear he instilled upon its citizens.

 

When in fear, believe in God and maybe he’ll hear your prayers but for the Joker, God was a being that was created by humans for humans.Nothing other worldly.Humans always pursue happiness and are opposed to those things that make them seem inhumane. Villains were in no need of an entity that had let them become degenerate in ways not even god himself would want to picture. They were in no need of a myth whose purpose is to hover around the universe and look at the creatures he created and laugh at them.  Filth knew better than that, rogues experienced better than that.

 

Winter came up and whenever it snowed, the town wanted to erase something. Gotham cried for its lost son and her tears were nothing more than frozen crystals that fell upon the surface of a town.Snowflakes were disgustingly clear in the moonlight.They were cold,  they hurt like thousand needles boring through your skin when they touched you. It was sickening and unbearable,

 

it was like you'd drown in a pit of flames the minute you let one of these tiny, fiery ice crystals hit your vulnerable skin. With no hesitation they would etch the flesh away and you'd see the ugly remnants of burnt human meat.And when your flailing limbs would attempt to free themselves, gotham would sever them, take ahold of your windpipe and squeeze every will to live out until no drop would even think of staying inside the shell we call our body.

 

Quite literally, Red hood would do that but for every heroic act, one must pay the price. Nightwing, had been stricken and the  darkest and biggest manifestation of god himself had hid his conqueror away. Gotham had shielded him ever since the spawns of the underground had dared to hurt her precious blue light of hope and had hidden him within the depths of her cage, where he once was the little robin that brought life into Bruce Wayne’s dull hallways.

 

When Red Robin had learned of the diagnosis he had hung his head low. Tim had crouched to the ground, had apologized to the dark knight and really, the bat had not wanted to see his Tim break himself as well. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. Batman was broken himself but he knew that all of his comrades, all of his birds had their wings torn the moment they agreed to become his wings.

 

Jason, his purpose being driven by revenge, bitter guilt clawing at the insides of his mind,knowing he’s the one only one who can end someone’s life without feeling remorse, who has the role of avenging his brothers downfall would sever Satan's head himself but again, he was stopped. As always when he tended to get lost within rage and hatred he felt for Gotham and it's filth.

 

Stephanie would stop him. Tim had been at his side, reassuring him that everything would be okay but everytime Jason would listen all he heard were sweet nothings. Batwoman, so strong and keen had taken it upon herself to  guard Nightwings territory, Blüdhaven. Barbara, her red hair and pale skin glistening proudly in the nights, reminding her enemies of a red mare coming for your soul, would swing from building to building and quite ruthlessly thirst for their blood. For years.

 

\-------

 

One particular night Jason has had enough. He was driving through the city, his ever so cynical self riding on his  motorcycle after an argument with Bruce. Barbara had spent the last 3 months in Saudi Arabia, trying to find something out about an organization that might've had something to do with Damians abduction. Specifically when she went to Oman, there were hints, while Talia was supposedly dead. When she had returned she was crestfallen- every hint she found turned out to be false.They were mislead and it was obvious they were tricked.

 

Jason broke down, not sobbing but shouting profanities at Bruce. Bruce just sat there motionless, stoic, gripping the sides of his chair almost breaking them in the process and the old man would mistake the cracking outside his mind, with his heart tearing apart. He refused to let his anger get the  better of him, because he knew Jason was right.

 

Jason had absolutely been right about it being his fault. Just months prior before Damian quit his role as Robin, Jason and the thirteen year old had a dispute which resulted in Damian being wounded. He should've held back, Jason told himself. Nevertheless, the second eldest stomped to his motorcycle and started the engine. Tim who had been with Dick for two hours, entered the cave and stared at the three of them.

  


"What's wrong? Jason where are you going? I thought you'd stay for dinner!" Tim asked.

 

Jason pursed his lips took a deep breath. Tim had been nothing but clingy and out of character since disaster has befallen them. The boy anxious and worried for everyone's safety and somehow Tim always tried to drag Jason over to the manor, as if to make sure he’d stay within their reach. Jason walked over to Tm, ruffling his hair. A habit, Jason had developed after realizing that Tim never knew how to behave around the elder. After Tim had looked at him with soft eyes, Jason huffed and hopped onto his motorcycle, his brown bulletproof leather jacket swaying lightly.

  


"Sorry Timbo, my appetite has gone by. Why don't you just ask Bruce what freak show he initiates in here , while I actually do something for a damn change."

  
He growled beneath his motorbike helmet. The red hood helmet had been discarded by him, for several reasons. Now Jason has settled for the Domino mask he usually wore underneath his Hood. With a scowl, Jason drew out of the cave. Barbara, bid goodbye went offline and Bruce, he just stood up, pat Tim on his head and beckoned him to go upstairs and tell Alfred to prepare dinner for four.

 

Every night Bruce would go to Damian’s old room. Closing the door and watched all of his paintings.  Before Damian had been abducted he left the Teen Titans, entrusting them to Kid flash. Why he left was a mystery. Starfire had questioned it but no matter who it was , Damian refused to talk to anybody. He refused the mantle as robin and gave it back to Tim.

 

Bruce strangely found himself content with it at that time. He thought Damian learned about his wrong doings, had been listening to him but needed a break and really the boy did his best. He saw it but never talked to him about it. Bruce walked to the neatly done bed and sat down.Nothing in the room has been changed. He told Alfred tp leave everything as it is the only thing Alfred was allowed to do was to tidy it up.

 

6 years ago him and Damian had a fight. Damian was the only one who could help him patrol the city. Tim had another mission. Cassandra and Stephanie have taken it upon themselves  to help Nightwing in Blüdhaven before they went to Gotham and Jason. Jason and Bruce would've resulted in an argument. So there was noone Bruce could've asked for help that night. No he didn't ask Damian for help. He tried to force the reason for him quitting robin out of him. With harsh words, with a spar with an argument. Damian refused to talk, refused to look him in the eye. Damian didn't fight. Damian just stood in front of his father panting from the spar, panting from his excessive training.

 

He shut himself away and one of Bruce's biggest mistakes was letting Damian create another wall between them. It hurt Bruce and instead of trying to tear it down, he chose to ignore his son yet again.Bruce's regret just ached deeper and he felt unshed tears rimming his tired eyes.

 

That night, after Bruce had gone off alone, Damian had stormed off. Alfred being convinced he'd need some time out.Apparently, Damian had talked to Alfred about some of his nightmares and about how he felt about the choices he made. He felt like a prisoner of his own mind.Not informing anyone of his absence or his whereabouts.

 

He shut everything down, destroyed the cameras, hacked the computer and what not other things that would stop him from fleeing off into the night, without any weapons. Just himself and a mask he brought with him as reminder of his heritage. Damian resented the league of assassins but nonetheless refused to get rid of the black domino mask his mother had gifted him with.  Bruce had let him go, had wanted some air for himself. Everything went to hell hours later. Bruce sat by the lit fireplace and the Flames created a distortion,reminding Bruce of a computer screen. Everything hit him at once.

 ---

_6 years prior- Location- Batcave_

 

Hee'd come back with an unconscious Nightwing in his arms, Jason on his other side hanging off his broad shoulder and Tim holding onto his cape as if it was his own life. All four of them had been hit by a strong dose of fear toxin, Dick’s and Jason's dose so heavy that they passed out, all of them had risen temperatures. After taking care of the two unconscious former robins, Bruce had injected them with a serum. With Alfreds help, he'd done tests on each of them, deducing that they were hit with a radioactive toxin that would alter their process of aging for at least 5 years.

 

Bruce didn't know wether to be happy about him not aging fast or if he should be alerted to side effects. The case they were occupied with, was a new drug from Jokers side and it was induced with toxins from Scarecrow as well as Poison Ivy. Just a poisonous cocktail that resulted in utter paranoia, anxiety attacks, temporary brute strength and bloodlust.

 

In the end, it's consumers would die with a smile on their face. The drug Batman and the others were hit with, had no chances of affecting their brain cells. Bruce with the help of Langstrom had developed a neutralizer against Scarecrow's fear gas and Joker venom, leaving only Poison Ivy's strange cell boost as option for invasion in their bodies. Dick had saved Bruce's life after Scarecrow had missed his shot.

 

In contempt, Nightwing was hit with a huge dose of  an unfamiliar fear toxin. Bruce has feared for Dicks life countless times, had screamed until Jason slapped him across the face to wake him up. Unfortunately Jason passed out the moment Nightwings body crashed onto Batman's chest. Both of the boys had been lying there and in the midst of the commotion Tim was the only one who was sane enough to call Spoiler and Black Bat. Cass and Steph took care of Jokers underlings, Barbara killed Scarecrow. In all honesty, Bruce had not hated her for it. Bruce had said nothing when they returned to the batcave. Bruce had even thanked his three angels for saving their lives over and over again.

 

Tending to their injuries had been a routine for Alfred but that night had been the worst in his life. Richard in a comatose,hardly breathing. Jason unconscious and thrashing around, curling into himself crying for his life and seeing the torture he was put under occuring second after second. Tim's wide, tearstained blue eyes twitching, him holding onto Bruce. Barbara limping and her bloodstained hands being cleaned by a crying Stephanie. Cassandra being mute about everything but hugging Alfreds shaking frame and Bruce. Bruce just staring, empty, bruised and heartbroken. A sight that Alfred was all to familiar with. If this horrifying scene was not enough, Alfred's sudden panic attack while running upstairs, frantical and heavy footsteps following him.

 

Bruce ran after Alfred because he knew why the old man was afraid. Not bothering to knock, almost tearing the door apart, Alfred jumped into the dark and cold room only to find it empty. His worst nightmares just came true One by one. Damian was not there. Damian's things, however, were there. His sketchbook. His dog. His cat. His clothes.

All of the devices he kept hidden were there. Everything was there and the room looked as if it was untouched. Ever since he had stormed off he did not return. Even after days, because Bruce had thought he stayed at one of the Teentitans places, the boy had not returned. He patrolled the nights with Cassandra, sometimes Stephanie.

 

They had looked at the CCTV cameras all over the town much like Barabara did when Bruce had been ruthless after Damian's death, at their recordings. He had asked Clark and Jon to no avail. Had asked everyone Damian knew but he was nowhere to be found. They contacted Nightwings friends, searched Blüdhaven but failed. They had tried to get in touch with the ex outlaws but also. Nothing.

 

For the first time in his life the greatest detective in the world had no clues. He gave himself the fault. Damian had tried to understand Bruce, always. Damian had tried to explain to him  why he refused to take up the mantle of robin, Damian had wanted Bruce's understanding this time. Not his respect, not his approval. Bruce stood up and cradled Damians sketchbook. Tiny droplets of tears hit the picture of his sons sad features. It looked like Damian had cried too. Bruce, while sitting there remembered how Barbara had made a horrifying fund.

 

Damian's red motorcycle had been found drowned and demolished by the Docks. Tim made another fund in the Narrows. A torn apart dark green sweater , blood soaked. After tests, it was proven that the blood belonged to Damian. These funds however helped all of them nothing. The court of owls mysteriously disappeared. Joker stayed behind bars and his demeanor didn't change. Poison Ivy still scemed. Scarecrow was dead. Talia and Ra's were dead. No matter how much Bruce searched, Damian remained missing. The entire Bat Family refused to believe he was dead. The hope they had with the funds, did not once falter.

 

 Damian had integrated a camera and recorders in his motorcycle. In that night, his destination was indeed the Docks but the things they found in the bag he secured at the back of his motorcycle, were burned and soaked remnants of a painting.Black ink around the edges of a nightmarish creature.Tim had made sure to collect pieces of the torn page in his soaked sketchbook, it was a new one. In his blood stained hoodie, Tim had found another little piece. The short video, was black, nothing was visible. Sinister laughter,worse than the Jokers chimed.Blades cutting in  and something burning down.

 

Damian's agonizing screams filled Bruces and Tims ears and then video stopped after a crash, indicating that the motorcycle was thrown into the water and sank down.  Broken out of his stupor by Titus yowl, Bruce lowered his hand and pat his head. Bruce watched the dog. Titus had aged, was tired and remained in Damians chamber most of the time.

 

When Jason would come over, Titus would spend time with him and surprisingly Jason never minded. He'd take the dog outside for walks. Bruce even let Titus reside in Dicks room beneath the cave. The great dane would lay his head near Richards pale hand and when Dick would be conscious, Titus would lightly nudge that hand. Dick would stir and sometimes move his thumb, ever so weak and lightly touch Titus nose. That alone wouldn't be enough for the dog to bear with the absence of his dear owner but Titus was a proud and smart dog.

 

He knew his owner would come back. Bruce had nearly lost all hope if it wasn't for Tim talking to him. Bruce was grateful to Tim. Tim has always done so much for him, stayed by his side, would always try to understand Bruce and it hurt Bruce seeing him cry over his own demise. So Bruce pulled himself together and would work on his depressions, would try to look forward, would do his utmost everything for Tim, for Dick, for Jason. For everyone and accept help. Tim had told him he was stronger and Bruce found himself believing Tim. This is why he deemed Tim his very own Uriel. Giving him strength to keep going.

 

\-----

_Present_

  
Bruce lit up the fireplace since it had been hours of him focusing on on particular spot and read through a notebook Damian sometimes carried with him.  The night had only begun and he told Alfred to tell Cassandra and Stephanie to go on patrol. He flipped through it, read numerous thoughts Damian had kept to himself, discovering old sketches of creatures that were manifestation of his bloodlust, like he those he found after Damian had gone off to Nobody. Bruce always knew that Damian was very fond of Art and various artists. He stopped at an highlighted page. Things were scribbled all over it and in the middle of that page was a quote.

 

_"Sickness, Insanity and death were the angels that surrounded my cradle and  they have followed me through my life"  Edvard Munch_

 

Somewhere Bruce had thought he'd failed Damian. Greatly. A loud knock on the door, informed him of Alfreds worrywart self. Bruce stood up, carrying Damians notebook with him and went down stairs. While doing so, he looked outside the large windows. Gotham was never beautiful, even with a white veil decorating it.6 years ago was the same as this night.

 

\------

 

_6 years prior - Location- Crime Alley_

 

Snow was everywhere, hail hit on all surfaces and emitted sounds that could be heard metres away. Hail sometimes has good side effects-On the other hand these collisions could always be interpreted in another way. As an annoyance to the ears. They could be striking your anxiety. Everyone can react to anything, differently. A mysterious shadow jumped from rooftop to rooftop. He  stumbled and staggered. His colors dulled and dirtied. Gotham saw how this intruder exuded tiredness and horrendous fear.Gotham was infuriated. That's why there was hail, that's why Gotham wasn't satisfied with the aching coldness of the snow.

 

That's why it felt like acid would let you die a painful death with every drop you dared to let you touch. Gotham made sure it's  familiar intruder would reach where ever he was about to go, with a warm breeze and dark, dark shadows protecting him from any mean and cursed onlookers. After some time the silhouette came to a stop and stood in front of a dimly lit alley way. He was broken, needed tending.

 

The hail stopped  and everything that was left, was a ghostly scene that enfolded before the persons blurry vision. White snow and black fence posts. Dark blue skies and faint lit street lamps. Red- no, nothing red. Or so he thought. He even thought he saw a flash of dark red light rushing through the streets. He saw  faint puffs of air escaping his barely open mouth and his cracked dry lips hurt. His tremors worsened upon realizing he didn't know were was. His legs carried him here. All he remembers was the silhouette of a large manor that looked like the one he had in his nightmares. The alley he was standing in did not have one.The boy raised his head, it made the wet snowflakes land on his mask, rather than the dirty concrete.

  


He coughed up blood and it ran down the corners of his mouth.The masked warrior stood there  rooted to the spot for a long time, before he tried to climb down the wall he was standing on but his injuries prevented him from landing with a grace he usually  possessed. He didn't land on his feet. His angled broken arm and his sprained ankles roughly collided with the cold concrete. Ironically the ground he landed on wasn't layered with thick snow but just an frozen puddle of dirt and water. Both of his ankles were poorly beaten up.  He liked to put it as a prank of god and a misfortune.

 

He was able to cushion half of his body by using his not so beaten up side , although it was littered with cuts and mean injuries. A new set of tremors ran through his battered left fingers, his ears ringed and his already poor vision only blurred further. It was clouded with remnants of blood and sweat, maybe salty tears. The snow just made the nasty mixture the more unbearable and Damian wanted to scream. Then again, screaming for his life and pleading to do anything after his resolve had been broken, chewed upon and spit out only to be pulverized again, was not an option anymore.

 

He didn't even have enough power to scream, his voice was lost, sealed shut in his throat after it had been strangled and his head hurt whenever his mind would recall something as horrifying as that.  Damian got up, frustratingly slow and gotham, his foster mother, wouldn't stop crying, Gotham tried to soothe her little bird with her warm tears but it didn't help Damian. It made it worse. Just so much more worse.

 

Damian would grit his teeth because he knew that this unfamiliar place screamed for him. He missed himself and all he could think about in this cruel night was how he must look like. Was he pitiful? Was he pathetic to himself? Most certainly yes.

 

The truth was, Damian had feared this dark place with her angels and his dark knight and so many times he'd be reminded that while dragging himself through the mushy paddles on the rough surface of the cement beneath  his sore and screaming feet, that he was just an abomination. To anyone and everything around him. At least that's what these taunting demons told him.

 

Their faces would swivel around his miserable form and his head would lower everytime these frightful visages laughed sinister sounds escaping their bloodstained eyes, their mouths were sewed shut. He shut his eyes, as tightly as they could go, he would not succumb to lies he told himself. His mantra was to keep going. Light has disappointed him but what about darkness? He wanted nothing more than a warm substance or anything warm that welcomed him as the demon he was. He kneeled in front of a brick wall. He shook his head in confusion and slowly turned towards the streetlamp.

 

He tried to, apart from staggering now and then and cursing oaths under his weak intake of wet breathes and heaves. His third attempt of standing up nearly let him pass out. Each step he took caused his moves to become more sluggish. Just as he was about to pass the narrow path in front of him he winced.Pain pierced his upper body anew, the main source being his bloody dislocated shoulder and broken rib bones.

 

"Damn it! "

  


There were just little steps separating him from the door that had been sealed shut within the depths of his jagged memories. Of course that door wasn’t there. The alley had cliched big dumpsters and abandoned furniture. The last step he took cost the last ounce of power he had. The young soldier, the only thing he recalled being named, passed out and fell to the stone cold ground. With a loud thud he laid there in dampness. His eyelids started to close and the only thing he thought of was a venomous voice telling him something he'd never forget. Words he wished he never heard.

 

_"A black swan values his blood more than others"_

 

Rather than the sirens of the alarms he expected going off, he heard a deep voice, robotic even. An engine abruptly coming to a stop. The stench of petrol filled his nostrils and after a few moments was replaced with an earthy fragrance mixed with a cheap aftershave. His vision was too blurred to make out the person shakily lifting him up by his uninjured arm. He was too gone for him to notice how the cold cushions of snow disappeared and he was met with a  rough leather surface against his gashed, bloody cheek.

 

All of the heat was so unfamiliar to him and he was too occupied with wanting to just sleep, when he felt gloved hands checking his pulse against his neck. A leather hand brushed his raven hair out of his masked eyes. A cloaked figure with a disturbing white mask was trying to get a proper look at his prey. Damian missed the foreign deep voice stupidly uttering a name that sounds foreign to his bloodied ears. The syllables he had to listen to hurt him more than the several gashes and contusions he probably had over his body. Finally, he slipped out of consciousness only to listen to hushed and artificial voices.

 

Damian felt uncomfortable and in the depths of his dark consciousness his shadow weeped and turned away ran into the dark and  sealed a door. Not once did he wake up, even when two cloaked men dragged him along a dimly lit gateway, threw him into a monitored chamber and sealed the door shut.

 

\----

 

_Present_

 

The night passed begrudgingly silent for Alfred. In the morning, the city was blessed by the ever so camouflaging sunlight.Jason did not come back after taking off.

Alfred was known for over exaggerating quite a bit. Judging by the remnants of his trauma in his "shakespearean career".

Of course the sunlight, the one and only thing that made the city beautiful in his old eyes. When civilians would look through the slits of their drawn curtains, their hell was neither black or white. It was both. Pale sky with the slightest hint of blue, cloudless stretched above the city as if wanting to make up for its lack of softness.

Metropolis seemed like paradise compared to Gotham. Stores and shops opened and lured gullible civilians out. They continue the string of manipulating and fun filled shopping detours.Cars driving on the streets and trains in the underground rushing. Nothing new. Most people come out of their houses and apartments trying to earn their income.

 

Why? If you don't have money, you have no chance of survival. After all, the world stays cruel. Capitalism masked by a superficial image of a ideal society that heavily depended on democracy. A lot of countries still have ruthless laws. Iran or Iraq. Alfred liked to be up to date about the world and he had to, since Batman heavily relied on his support when it came to cases. Of course, he had his computer but still, Bruce had no right to prefer an electronic device in comparison to a loyal and dear friend like Alfred. His father figure.

 

Alfred had taken it upon himself to clean the mansion while Tim, Stephanie Cassandra and Bruce presumably would sleep in. Yesterday they went on patrol after dinner. Jason had been gone for the past few hours needing a break.

 

He was probably wandering around Gotham somewhere, trying to drown his problems in alcohol like always, needing solitude. Tim had told Alfred before speeding off with Bruce. Alfred found himself content with way things were between him and Stephanie. Steph was strong on her own, a strong woman that did not need validation from a man, even if said man was Tim.

 

Cassandra and her had been spending time together more than before. Alfred had understood them. Alfred had known that Jason needs space since so many things happened and the relationships he and Bruce had consisted of broken shards of trust that occasionally could be put back together. It's a never ending cycle of trust, betrayal and clashing morals between the two and no matter how much Alfred tried to mend their relationship. It bore nothing.

 

At some point he and Tim managed to keep them away from each other but Bruce would insist on Jason staying with him in the mansion, since Dick would've liked that too. Richard would've criticised all of them, especially Tim and Bruce, if it had not  been for him laying there in his fort of cushions, sleeping soundly but so awake that the dull blue of his tired eyes was visible. He twitches every now and then at the mention of Jason's name. No matter how many times the knight in blemished armor saves the night. What is the meaning of life these days anyways, sleep, eat, work. A never ending circle.

  


It was a normal day for most of the people without noticing that the dark side is sheming yet another plan for this city to be in chaotic trouble. Aren't these rowdies always up to something? It's not surprising anymore. Well, a reason enough for Batman to be relevant. Who would our dark knight be without traumatic events from his childhood and all the miscreants and dear villains he can vet his inner frustration and anger out on.

 

Not forgetting the fact that he can hide behind is mask and conceal his fear.Sometimes Alfred was just really frustrated and let his thoughts get all over the place. Sometimes he was afraid that the Joker would've gotten to him. As always, the police is on their own patrol driving through the entire city, keeping  watch.

 

Everyone knew they buy themselves doughnuts, a whole package, park their car near trash cans in the next alley and talk about their miserable lives as wed men. Complaining about, how their bed stays cold and their children grate on their last nerves. A lot of criminals don't show their faces in the daytime. It would be too careless. There are plenty of reasons for it. Each of them has their own not to show themselves and make a foolish choice.  


They still do it.Sometimes Alfred is just very glad he has this life, sometimes he hates it. While it is starting to get busy on the streets and pavements.So are the noises increasing. Bunches of people walking, cars at their highest point of speed, crashing against bins and a lot more. The walls are massive, there can't be heard anything. Not even in the slightest yet Alfred hears every single heartbreaking noise outside them. They remind him that this is the reality he's in.  


"I wish you a good morning Master Bruce! I'd like to fill you in on something regarding the case last night!" Alfred hurried through the huge hall way.

 

He walked towards another man, younger than him but above mid age. Although Bruce wouldn't spare him a glance, since he was occupied with his smartphone. Wayne enterprises would not wait for him.

  


"Good Morning to you too, Alfred!I have to beg your pardon but as you can see, I am in a hurry! I have go now or I'll be late for work.Please wait until dinner!"

  


"As you wish Master Bruce! Have a good day." Alfred sighed.

  


With one last wave over his broad shoulders, Bruce left the manor. Another deep sigh escaped the senior as he too, turns around and  Pennyworth went  upstairs, walked down another hallway and stopped midway before a closed mahogany door, with bronze door hands. Quite fancy. Bruce had liked it that way. No rather he wanted to keep it that way.

 

Bruce was absent minded and it has gotten quite worse in the recent months. He would be worse than after Jasons or Damians loss, when they were dead. Because knowing that Damian was alive somewhere, that Richard would slip in and out of the comatose for the last few years and would be motionless was eating him alive. Knowing that Damian is somewhere but not having the reassurance for his well being yet again, was crucifying.

 

He pitied himself, would push everyone away, would sit just hours there mourning and crying, would refuse to eat but the scariest thing in Alfreds eyes was how Bruce returned to his cheerful playboy persona. Not just for the looks, He would spend more time as Bruce Wayne than Batman, would leave it to Tim and Cassandra, sometimes Stephanie and  Jason to defend the city and completely disregard his duties as Batman. In these nights were he forgets being Batman, he sits at Dick's bed and would observe him with empty and grievous eyes and after five hours he would go to Damians room and draw.

 

He was nowhere near the level Damian was when it came to drawing, painting but each time, he would get better with memorising strokes and lines that resembled the young and childish face of a 13 year old Damian. Not Damian Wayne, not Robin. Just his Damian. For 6 years  it had been the same crumpled papers. For 6 years it had been his aggravating hysterics. It was as if time stopped for all of them. They did not age. Alfred hurried to the cave, opened a special gateway that led him to the room Dick occupied, was kept in safe from the outer world.

  


"Master Dick, please forgive the intrusion but I have brought you some water"

  


Dick was perched up against his soft white cushions, bigger than his head. His head weakly leaned forward and his glossy hair askew. His head turned ever so slightly and Alfred immediately  rushed to his side, pushing the locks out of his face. Richard was awake, was alive but an empty pale shell that resembled a french porcelain dolls frame. Within the years, Dick did not age as well. The toxin he was hit with, took its toll on his body too as it seemed to alter his physique and the years of a deep comatose were evident in his frame too. He was no more than a thin branch, ghostly residing in the warm room.

  


"Your pulse is better, Master Dick. Did Tim visit you this morning? I doubt he did but I see that Ms Brown has been tending to you. We are glad that you are mostly awake with us I hope this time it will last longer than just two days." Alfred lovingly caressed Dicks cheek and in return got a weak twitch of hooded, eyelids.

  
  


Dicks breathing had improved within the last year. He was able to breathe without a mask and was also able to move his lips. Nothing but soft intakes of air could be heard and Alfred was already content with that. He was steadily getting better. Alfred sat there, watching Dick sitting lifelessly and sadly against his pillows. Dicks eyes were void of anything and yet sadness was evident.

  
  


He watched the white wall in front of him, as if longing for something. Alfred squeezed  Dicks hand and moved closer to his side profile, wanting to give him some water. Without any resistance Nightwing remained motionless.He rembered what the last appointments result was.

 

Bruce had been keeping in touch with Martian manhunter. Every week he'd come and examine Dicks mental state,concluding that the toxin was able to completely destroy his consciousness. It's takes an immense amount of time for his brain to recover and helping him heal would be too much of a risk.   


"It a psychological case, were rational thinking can't solve his problem” M’gann whispered. She was there too. Almost everytime J’onn would do checkups.

 

"It's  a miracle he was able to survive it, he's strong and let me tell you this. He will recover. His life is out of danger.” J’onn squeezed Bruces shoulder.

  


“What does that mean?” Tim asked.

  
  


“Him slipping in and out of consciousness is a good sign. He's fighting off the toxin and he's trying to restore his mental state!” M’gann cheered.

 

“Altering anything or putting him under a false amnesia won't result in any good outcomes or worse- his state could turn into a life threatening experience. " J’onn warned.

  


Bruce was overwhelmed, like every family member was.  Alfred had cried, Jason had fainted and Tim cried too, Stephanie, Barbara and Cassandra had hugged each other.At least Dick was getting better.

  
  



	2. Passing by

* * *

 

  
  
  


 

"It's good that we have been keeping in touch..Even I get lonely sometimes."

 

Jason counted the amount of ice cubes the barista put in, out of sheer curiosity. When Jason  occasionally glanced to the counter, the barista, probably a freshman college student with a solid build and pretty cheekbones, would quickly turn away. Jason didn’t miss the slight blush. He had to admit that the male was cute with his blue hair and pierced ears. However, now wasn’t the right time for things like dates. Jason decided to ignore him and went back to absentmindedly playing around with the almost molten cubes.

 

Believe it or not, he wasn't some notorious perfectionist like the rest of his so called family. In the midst of his Red hood duties he was growing tired of going after mob bosses and having cobblepot behind his own aquarium, which Bruce miraculously still did not find out. It was a nice change of pace. Jason had never been anyone who'd wanted to spent time with his supposed family. No. Better, he never saw himself directly a part of it.He didn’t want to play pretend either. Trust is just something so fragile, even more so with a bunch of caped crusaders.

 

Sometimes Tim was the center of his corrupted feelings. Since everything that has happened, he felt like his company would ease up things. Gradually he came to accept the boy for what he is not what he represents.He didn't know that it helped the rest of the family. Even the ever so absent Cassandra reached out to him. That's why they were sitting here, in this mediocre cafe somewhere in Blüdhaven.

 

Jason just wanted to avoid Gotham after his dispute with Bruce last night. He decided it would be a good choice to call Cass since she was one of the few he'd ever go drink something with.Even if it was non alcoholic. He downed enough shots in an irish pub he’d found near crime alley. Talk about doing something productive.How would he avoid sounding like a hypocrite?.Sometimes he took everybody’s sympathy for granted.

 

"You're usually very talkative, Jason." Cassandra whispered. 

 

What Jason couldn't avoid was jumping at her tone. He did his best to mask how shaken he was but he knew he couldn't fool Cass. No One could fool her. Jason let out an awkward laugh and rubbed his neck. Stirring his ice tea he looked her over. She was tired. Exhausted. Something you seldom came to face with when spending time with her. Something critical maybe? 

If you ever spent time with her that is. Her hair was shorter than it used to be, her face paler. Bruce had told Jason alot about Cassandra and Jason just sat there, mouth agape not knowing how to react to all of the stories he heard about her. They were awfully similar to Damian’s upbringing in the League. Traumatizing and terrible. Worse than his. The distinctive difference between the two was that Cassandra loathed death where Jason used it a way of judgement. Clashing morals codes are the new black Jason supposed.

 

"Maybe you're mistaking me with Dick, Cass. Since when have I been the talkative one out of those idiots.?" he drawled.

 

Cassandra just nodded, bit the insides of her cheeks as if to stop herself from saying something stupid. Jason was a walking bomb. You say something that could be offensive to him, talk about a family he deemed himself not a part of? That's when he explodes and never lets you hear the end of it. Tim had warned her about his difficult self but frankly if he wanted to let off steam, she'd be the right one, because Cassandra knew how it feels to consider someone their family. It was hard and challenging, mentally and physically. She emphasized with Jason, on many levels.

 

She hasn't been ignoring her duty like he did, make no mistake she never does that but even she knew when it's enough. Cassandra had been making progress with Duke and everybody else.Her team, the outsiders had taken on a lot of cases but as soon as Cassandra was informed about what happened to Richard and Damian, she left them, temporarily. She trusted Duke enough to let him take on her cases for a while because Jason needed her. Tim had Stephanie, even if the two weren't together anymore, Barbara was there too. Harper was there too. Even Azrael. All of them played this game, why shouldn’t she. She’d turn her back, leave it and abandon everything...would that turn her into gold? Let go?

 

Of course she considers them friends, family, brothers but somewhere deep down in her heart she knew that there would always be doubts and that none of them could understand her except Jason and Damian. Audibly, Cassandra sighed and stirred the remnants of her own iced tea. She watched as even the last pieces of the cubes melted and mixed with the tea. Peculiar. It looked like liquid copper in her eyes. Not gold.

 

"You're probably right, pardon me." she said.

 

"Cassandra, what have you been up to? I heard you're ignoring Bruce."

 

"Not ignoring but.."

 

"Avoiding? Heh, been there done that." He blew a strand out of his face and proceeded stirring his drink.

 

"Ah yes, Tim has told me..lots."

 

"Well let me tell you that it only works for a short amount of time until he decides to beat your ass but then again, it's you were talking about."  He chuckled bitterly and crushed  one of the smaller ice cubes with his straw. He just loved crushing things and see them crumble doesn't he?

 

"You think too highly of me Jason.."

 

Cassandra decided to order another soft drink, she craved sweetness but something that had the right amount of it in it. With the peached ice tea...it was like she was reminded of Stephanie, which she didn't want to. Then, If so, why was she slurping something that reminded her of Stephanie as if it breathed her into life? With one look, her heart had been hypnotized.She was sick of feelings that weren’t needed. That had no hope. Jason knew about it. Of the feelings she harbored towards the blonde and frankly, he felt bad for Cassandra. 

 

Both of them were great at what they were doing, were even compassionate towards others. Something Jason could never warp his head around but they weren't here to talk about themselves, not their vigilante lives. They weren't like Bruce, whose Batman persona would consume his true self.Maybe Batman was his true identity and not Bruce Wayne. Jason hated it. Didn’t want to be constantly reminded that his looming shadow is still terrifying to him.

  
  


"How are things between you and Stephanie?” __ he cautiously asked, he didn't want to startle her.Or pry.

  
  


".... Normal. Not much progress. You?" she chuckled.

 

"You mean? No. I- I miss him, yes but...Hope is a word that has never been in my vocabulary. I suppose you could say, they are how they are."

  
  


"Ineffable? He is still missing..Bizarro?"

  
  


"Yeah. It's not easy to cope with it but hey.. I'll manage somehow."

  
  


He was not sure how he should describe his feelings towards a non human who had disappeared off somewhere. Heck he didn't even know how he developed something akin to a crush?  It's enough that he lost Roy, that he lost Damian  who he had related the most to besides Cassandra. Or should’ve related to. All he did was let himself be provoked and in the end even almost beat a lanky thirteen year old to a bloody pulp. Yes Damian is hard to deal with. He was rash, aggressive and hotheaded. Arrogant. Much like himself.

Jason had so much baggage and the few people who accepted him the way he was,kept disappearing. Yes maybe even Damian would’ve accepted him if Jason made the effort to talk to him more and be there for him. Both sides have to make efforts but the mature party has to make the first step. Damian was still just a child.

Somehow it's just laughable how he keeps losing things, he grows attached to. Should he judge others who try to help him? 

He guesses it would be a bad idea. Sometimes he had to take a step back into himself. Sometimes he had to take a step back and watch the world go on, as if watching from a window high above. Clearly. Slowly. Cold as he gulps down the cold liquid from his ice tea. It’s refreshing.

The two of them spent talking about casual things. Apart from their love lives, what was there to talk about anyways? They see their worlds through jaded lies but it's their life and what can they do? Nothing really. Only taking the consequences of their own decision.He finished his iced tea, had crushed every ice cube there was but his resolve to find Damian surprisingly didn't crumble. He knew there was something up him, usually he’d give a rats ass about the demon but after 6 years of missing? No. Jason wanted answers.

They paid, excused themselves and walked through town. Jason watched how busy the streets were. Blüdhaven is not much better than Gotham. Same disgusting smells, same rate of crime.A selfish city made by selfish people. Everything was the same. Except that Nightwing wasn't here to defend it. Cassandra had thrown her Orphan persona away and became Batgirl, once again. Gordon went back to Oracle. Jason didn't ask her why and he didn't want to know anyways. 

It wasn't his business to know.He pursed his lips and looked down, kicked a rock and accidently hit a dog coming their way. This earned him a glare from a middle aged, pudgy woman. He grimaced inwardly. Cassandra watched him with keen eyes, would softly smile at him and swiftly apologize to the old lady before hurrying off with Jason. Basic manners. She stopped before an ice cafe.

 

"You want Ice cream?" she smirked. Ah. Yes, Jason knew what she was getting at, quite frankly she was getting better at being playful and charming. Stephanie’s influence he supposed. Jason released a breath he didn't know he was holding and crossed his arms, mimicking a preteen. 

 

"You're sly, Cain." before he could finish, she walked into the Cafe and ordered ice cream with sprinkles. Richards favorites. Jason couldn’t bring himself to refuse it.

 

"Just don't tell anybody." he rolled his eyes and sat down on a nearby bench. It was surprisingly clean, not like most benches which were scribbled with all kinds of garbage and curse words. He wouldn’t want to sit on a bench like that.

  
  


Doing the same, Cassandra took out her phone, and checked her messages. She thought about visiting Nanda Parvat. Go to the temple, soothe herself. Damian had told her about it. She was losing herself and failed to remember her resolve.Cassandra doesn’t know what eats at her mind.

Even ice cream couldn't help her forget the uneasiness she felt and Jason silently agreed. They don’t need words to convey how they felt. He kept eyeing the sky, eating his cone. How long has it been since he had the time to be civil like this? He felt vulnerable, without his suit- just in casual clothes.As if he wasn't there. Then Jason thinks, a lot of people always have the need to tell him things about himself he didn’t want to hear. 

Everybody says he's not really there, everybody kept saying he was stuck between sleeping and needing to wake up from his ideologic dreams but he liked to keep these thoughts for the night. He just wanted an earful of sleep.A luxury he couldn’t afford anymore.

Cassandra would let herself hear her own thoughts, she'd tell herself not to think about too much but these terrible thoughts would let her be awake. Sometimes she would sit there, hear footsteps. Would close her eyes and forget her damn regrets and then she'd try to paint her dreams. Would picture a scenery of stars, with all of her loved ones but shadows of lightning would take them away one by one and every time she woke up drenched in sweat painting heavily. 

By the time the two of them had finished their cones, evening came and slowly the sun would go down. The sky was  lonely and engulfed by warm colors with scapes differing from bright yellows to reddish violets. Colors the two of them silently resented. These diminished colors reminded them of times others deemed good memories. Jason just wanted punch people like that.

"You know Cass. I blame myself for it. You shouldn’t. He didn't deserve this..Damian." he leaned against the small shoulder. He was so tired.

Him and Cassandra belonged to a nightmare. One plays dead because he thinks, it stops the hurt. The other sleeps and mistakes it for her healing. Another is missing, thinking fireflies weren't vile creatures. Everything is vile. If they see you floating too many times, they paint your face with your fears, with their sick green light.

All Damian ever did was chase fireflies. He followed them into the night but their light took him away, instead of back. Jason was aware of it. Cassandra was aware of it, yet it felt like a false painted dream of both of their cold colors, which didn't resemble the bright ones of the sunset in the least.

 

"We're always watching everybody else roll on by." he hoarsely chuckled. _**"We lost track of who we have become, while Damian always had a hard time to realize who he is."**_

 

"Now you're talking a lot." she uttered, her voice being shaky, her eyes unfocused as if she'd fall asleep any minute.The moment was ideal for a quick nap. It was warm. Sleep was never an option for either of them, not when their inner demons would come and hunt them down.

 

"Sometimes we're locked up in Ideals but sometimes we fail to realize that we're in a crossfire with bullets of our own expectancies ." she spoke. In the past years Cassandra was able to speak and form normal sentences. Jason was happy for her.

 

"Judgements and fake smiles plastered everywhere huh...We've got nothing to lose anyways.." Jason spoke, still drowsy but he realized they should head back to her apartment, catch some sleep and try to analyze the hints Cass has found during her mission in Hong Kong. Both of them didn’t want to talk about things that held no hope.

 

The air smelled like summer rain in the midst of a heat stroke. It was evening and it was bright enough that the street lamps wouldn't light up. Teens who thought of themselves as adults walked through the streets, swaying their fake Id's around as if to demonstrate the law can't do shit to them. Businessmen who thought their lives are the worst walked into pubs to order several beverages, whiskies ad if these drinks would help them escape their lives.

It was sickening how people who never knew how hard life was, thought god had punished them. 

Once again Jason was reminded of why he was fighting for what he was fighting.His sense of justice is his and no one would ever take that away. It was one of those moments where he thought everything around him slowed down, became bearable. 

He wished he could just linger a few moments longer, here on this bench, surrounded by the sunset, grey buildings, having warmth leaning against his shoulder. Being content. He didn’t need love. He just needed a shoulder he could cry on once in a while and Cassandra was perfect for that.

The situation wasn't dire. He knew he wasn't allowed to let go, he had his role to play, his memories to represent and had to retrieve what was lost or else he'd just die all over again. So of course he had no right to be annoyed when he heard a familiar ringtone coming out of his jacket pockets. He wrinkled his nose, Cassandra remained quiet, didn't change her position. Jason guessed she was comfortable and he was the last one to take that away from her. The ringing kept getting on his nerves and he was about to throw his phone away, smash it to the ground-

  
  


"Answer it. Alfred will not be pleased, Jason." Cassandra spoke as if knowing what was going through his head. It was as if she willingly tried to stop him from losing his temper and apparently it worked. All Jason  could do was sigh, walk around with a grim expression and let everybody know he didn't want to be talked to and Cassandra can understand it. So, unfortunately, Jason had to answer the phone in a really nonchalant and non flamboyant way.Just how Alfred had expected he would. 

 

"Hi Alfred, what's up?"

 

"Master Jason, where have you been? Ms. Gordon is quite worried about you, so is Master Tim."

 

Jason did his best not to snort. He was irked in the wrong way, when Alfred said that Barbara was worried about him. Since when would she care about him? He understood Tims worrywart nature and really he tried to understand the latter but it was nerve wracking to be kept on a leash, playing by their rules. When he has spent years of getting rid of his influence on him, everything just came back. He wanted to puke.

 

"I'm in Blüdhaven, tell Barbara to f-"

 

"Master Jason. I'd advise you to visit us once in while instead of staying a day in two months. Escaping  off to Ms. Cassandras place like that is not perceived well by Master Bruce."

  
  


"I'm only willing to put up with him because I want to find Damian and not be responsible for the replacement breaking down."

  
  


Alfred sighed, possibly even groaned. Poor him, Jason thought to himself. Meanwhile Cassandra stood up and waited for him to finish up. Yes, it seemed to him they'd go to Gotham any minute, so again, refusing is futile. Especially when Alfred and Cassandra were the ones you pissed off. Jason closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and finally gave in.

  
  


"We’ll be there in a few hours, Alfred. Keep Bruce away from me or I swear to god I can't guarantee for anything."

 

Before Alfred could say anything he hung up and got off the bench. Angrily, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and strode over to Cassandra who was already a couple of steps ahead of him. Jason quickly matched her pace and funnily enough, his dumb smile was getting in the way of his usual aloof nature. At least that's what Cass had told him  the minute she turned to look at him. 

Riding through the city at night. The lights were  captivating and flashing prettily. The  wind was brushing their hair out of their usually masked faces. That's what Jason always craved, a sense of freedom only he knew best. Time is less infected with it. Not to many metres away Cassandra was riding behind him, not as fast but still fast enough to match his pace in case he accelerated. It was perfect. This night was one of the nights he could let loose and be young. Without parties, without booze, without women and men, lovers of any kind. 

A short but fleeting moment until he had to enter the cave once they arrived . Hell.

Already at the entrance, Barbara was there to greet them. She forced a smile, when Jason had laid eyes on her debauched and tired form. Of course she'd been overworking herself again. It wasn't his business to mind. It never was. He walked over to the Batcomputer and sat down on the chair, while Cassandra was occupied to decline Alfred offering her some sweets. 

She had already enough sweetness for today. Jason rolled his eyes at them. There must have been a reason why he was called here. Tim surely wasn't the reason, Stephanie doesn't really mind him and he doesn't really have any business with Barbara as of late. Not to mention with Bruce in anyway. Unless it was something about Dick's condition.

 

"How is Dick? Was J'onn here?"  Jason asked while starting the computer. He wanted to know if Bruce kept any information about the Hong kong incident with him, since Cassandra didn't inform anyone but Jason himself about it.

  
  


"We have quite the good news master Jason."

 

Jason stopped typing and spun around. News? So he was right about the urgency. 

What would it be, he wondered. He didn't visit Dick for over a week and slowly more guilt was eating him away. Did Cassandra also feel the same.?  He watched her, their eyes met and she nod as if to reassure him it was fine to feel this way.That is was fine to feel alienated.To feel sorry for yourself.

 

_ "So?" _ he impatiently tapped his foot and ignored the sheepish look Barbara gave him, he ignored the frantic steps hurrying down the cave, Tim was coming down. Looked relieved when he saw Jason's mug.

 

_ " _ Well, master Richard has made tremendous progress and I'm utterly happy to announce that his frequent slips into comatose have fully stopped. From now on, he will be able to normally obtain healthy amounts of slumber."

 

Was Jason happy when he heard Alfred say that? Maybe. Did he allow Tim to pat his shoulder? Probably. Did he feel tears rimming his eyes and Cass hugging him as if to hide his face from the world? Yes, he did and he didn’t care that it was unlike him. He spent months trying to cope with his failing. Months of doubled sleepless nights.In which he dealt with the aftereffects of the toxins, where he had to get used to a de-aged body of 20 year old athlete. Jason wasn’t happy that he was aged back physically, it made his nightmares more vivid , his anxiety worse.

Jason was capable of surviving things but he wasn’t able to shoulder his own burdens. He wanted to punch something and wanted to scream at them to leave him alone but most importantly he felt at ease after a long time. Living in his mind was easier, it was some kind of protection but he tries to carry on.

 

“Can I see him?” he managed to formulate a sentence despite his internal breakdown.Not the first time but he was used to playing pretend.

 

Cassandra wanted nothing more than to hug Dick when they entered his room. It was too bright and it reeked of despair.

The last time she saw him, he was slightly paler and thinner but looking at him now, he appeared less lifeless like a corpse, more like puppet. Sometimes puppets have more life in them, than corpses had lost. Their relationship never had any chance to fully develop. It was disturbingly pretty. 

A little bit sad she sat down on a nearby chair, while Alfred and Barbara had excused themselves. Tim and Jason were sitting beside her and looked at Dick, as if they expected any reaction. To their surprise his head turned beside her ever so lightly. Cassandra saw the twitch of his shoulders, his grown hair strands swaying. He was shaking, as if freezing but his breaths were steady. His pale lips were parted.

The only things that weren’t turned to her direction were his dull and sad eyes and Cassandra’s hands automatically found Dicks sunken cheeks.Slowly and gently she cupped his jaw as if to give him warmth and Dick leaned to into her touch, The warmth didn’t reach his eyes.

Tim moved as if wanting to prevent Cassandra from grabbing Dicks face and Jason swiftly caught his arm. He shook his head and a couple of minutes later Tim nodded, trying to wrap his head around Cassandra’s action. He failed to understand her but much like Bruce ,she was secretive. Unreachable. Intimidating.They didn’t need another Bruce in their lives, at least Tim didn’t.

  
  


\---------

 

Alfred was busy tending to Barbaras headache. It’s no wonder with the amount of time she has spent in the cave, trying to desperately find new leads about Damians whereabouts. Since Kate decided to stay in Oman to investigate more and Stephanie was busy patrolling the city with Tim, she had made it her duty to manage cases from the batcave. She was the one who told Bruce to take it down a notch. 

To dedicate some time to himself, get out of Gotham but of course he refused. Yes he openly admitted he wanted to stay in the manor, that he wanted to trust them with Gotham, something he never did but ever since Damian disappeared, it’s as if he lost a piece of himself. Worse than when Selina left him. It’s worse than with Jason and she’s just too happy to oblige and be trusted with. She wanted to get rid of her own guilt too. She’d reach out to the Titans and keep in touch with the kids. If they’d find any leads but it’s been years.

She was on the verge of losing hope and slowly but surely everybody else was too. Not that they dared to admit that to Bruce.

 

“Ms. Gordon, I’d advise you to take some time off duty yourself.”

 

Alfred moved around the couch and sat down beside Barbara, who was about to nod off. She smiled at him. He was old and tired and out of all people it had been him holding the family together. Like he always did. It hurt her seeing him like this but much like Bruce he is just stubborn to the core.Something that seemed to run in the Wayne family.

 

“ Of course Alfred. Of course.”  she chided. She was unsure if she could talk about her doubts. Maybe she could try?

“ Alfred. Can I be honest with you?”

Reluctantly Alfred shifted and faces her.His smile was knowing and he was sure she’d tell him how there was no hope finding Damian. Alfred knew that Barbara was realistic and he could not blame the young woman. Could not deny the sadness and disappointment in her eyes as she tried to appear like her usual cheerful and charming self.

 

“You are not being very discreet Ms Gordon ”

 

Barbara felt like a pile of garbage. The moment Alfred’s stare hit her, she wanted to disappear and wanted to switch topics. Then again, she brought it upon herself.

Of course Alfred knew what she wanted to talk about. Of course she couldn’t fool him. Barbara shook her head. The words didn’t need to be said. It was enough. Strangely enough it didn’t help her forget her own incapable self. It made her insecurity worse if anything. 

Hesitant and closed off, she shook her head. There was no need to tell him. Absolutely no use to hurt the man any further than he she had already done the moment she decided to open up. That’s why she stopped being Batgirl.

 

“Ah..No. It’s alright. Should I help you prepare something for dinner?”

 

“If you’d like, Ms.Gordon. If you’d like.”

 

\--

 

“I’ll go on patrol.” Tim was determined to help his friends. Even Jason. 

 

“Did the big Bat set up to it or are ya’ doing it voluntarily? I can patrol the city with Cassandra, you look like crap.”

 

Jason really wanted to put that idiotic replacement in his place but knowing him, that boy would just find a way to win again. It was always like that. These two just didn’t know how to approach one another. Now of all times was the worst to argue who would patrol and Jason refused to let Tim get caught in the condition he’s in. 

Insomnia was never that visible on his face.

Not like usual. The bags under his eyes screamed overwork and really even with the mask on , his stance and the way Tim staggered while walking just gave it away.

If Timothy didn’t understand words, punches would have to do. 

He heard it from Alfred. 

How Tim stayed awake at nights more than he usually did, he didn’t eat, did not talk to anyone unless needed. As if working would make his regrets go away. It was Jason's job to blame himself, not the perfect little goody two shoes. Jason could explode once more but he thanked whatever was up there, for Cass. She put a hand on his shoulder, told him to relax. Not cause a scene. This would be an unneeded argument. 

 

“You need sleep. Now. No risking your life. Please.”

 

“You can’t think that in your condition you wouldn’t be dead meat.” 

  
  


She was already in her uniform. A new one. It was similar to her Orphan uniform and Jason wanted to barf. She beat herself up over so many things but was a master at fooling everyone. Everyone but him. After a 2 minute long debate they finally managed to convince the younger to rest and help Stephanie and Harper were out , patrolling the east wing of Gotham. Of course. Free reign. These two were just aggravating.

 

\---

 

Stephanie was content. It felt good to be out, with someone you could call a friend. Away from them and that house. It was suffocating and honestly she felt bad for feeling like this but, somewhere even she has to draw the line. If that had to be going out at night and patrolling a damn city so be it. If that meant risking her life to avoid Tim at all costs, so be it. 

 

“Harper, what do you think? Why are the others still hung up on trying to find Damian..?”

 

Harper stared at the expanse of the city. Cities at night were always so beautiful.Nightlife was fun too. If you do it right. Never would ahe have imagined she’d ne neaiting up bad guys wearing a bat crest on her chest but here she sits, stupidly perched on a gargoyle where usually robins sit. 

 

“Nah. You’re not seeing it. Everybody in that manor has given up long ago on that Damian guy. They’re only doing it for Bruce. Which is if you ask me, bullshit. But well. Noone is asking me”

 

Lazily, she adjusted her gloves and Stephanie watched the moon.

 

She was strangely happy.

 

”I guess you’re right, Harper..”

  
  


Where the next day would take them, Stephanie did not know. The lights that illuminated Harpers mask, were the oy beautiful sights she’d see that night.

  
  



End file.
